


under your skin, over the moon

by HoopyFrood



Category: All Elite Wrestling, Professional Wrestling, Ring of Honor
Genre: Dating, Established Relationship, Fluff, Inspired by Real Events, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Quarantine, Skype, social distancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:00:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24735820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoopyFrood/pseuds/HoopyFrood
Summary: Dating during a global pandemic feels kind of like the Wild West. An unknown frontier where you’ve just got to make the best of the few scraps life has dealt you.
Relationships: Adam Page/Marty Scurll
Kudos: 21





	under your skin, over the moon

Adam has always found himself falling into relationships rather than actively seeking them out.

In college, he lucked out with a fantastic roommate who, after their first year muddling through blossoming adulthood together, boldly asked Adam out halfway through _Jaws_ during their Wednesday movie and takeout night. Adam couldn’t really think of a reason to say no and replied with an easy _sure, why not?_ before asking him if he wanted the last egg roll. They mostly continued on as normal, hanging out with their mutual friends during the week then getting drunk at the weekend, just with way more sex than either of them had been having combined up until that point.

His last serious relationship before he started wrestling full time was with a History teacher at the school he’d been working at. Sharing lunch together during break somehow became sharing lunch at home, and before he knew it they were sharing birthdays and Christmases together, too. Their eventual split had been amicable. After realising you’re going through the motions of being in a relationship rather than experiencing it, _relishing_ it, there isn’t much more you can do than give each other a tired smile and go your separate ways.

Dating a friend, or even a colleague, isn’t like going up to a stranger in a bar or meeting someone from Tinder. You can skip right past awkwardly sitting across from each other in a coffee shop, nervously taking measured sips of your drink so you don’t spill it down yourself as they ask you what you do for fun, and straight to lazy days spent curled together in front of the TV. 

As a naturally anxious person who is prone to over analysing every aspect of his life, it’s a quirk of his storied love life that Adam hasn’t been quick to rectify. After all, why fix something that isn’t broken?

Dating a _stablemate_ , however, is an entirely different rodeo.

If dating a friend means skipping a few steps, dating a stablemate is like taking an elevator straight to the top floor of a high-rise. It’s everything turned up to eleven, a shared intimacy born from being covered in their sweat, their _blood_. With a stablemate you’ve already pressed exhausted kisses to their temple and consoled each other with soft words and softer touches. There are no secrets, no surprises, just the quiet calm of knowing someone in their entirety and, if it came to it, being ready to sacrifice everything for them in a heartbeat.

In some ways it’s more intimate than actually being in a relationship.

It took a while for him to realise just how enamoured he was with Marty because of this. It was only when the cracks in Bullet Club started to form that he realised what he felt for Marty was different from what he felt for Kenny, Cody and the Bucks. That it was Marty who he’d be worrying about, Marty who he wished he was rooming with, tagging with. That it was Marty’s wins that would keep him smiling for days.

It was easy after that, like a switch had been flipped on and the road ahead of him, once bathed in darkness, was now illuminated with a brilliant light. Falling into Marty’s bed was inevitable by that point. Neither of them expected the relief upon finally coming together after being unaware they’d been endlessly circling each other since the moment they met. And sure, maybe he never envisioned them being long-distance, but if missing Marty is the cost of having him then it’s a price Adam’s willing to pay.

Then the world goes into lockdown.

It’s Saturday evening and Adam’s attempting to find the perfect position for his laptop on the coffee table. He should have it down to a fine art-form by now, having been doing it regularly for a year, but every weekend he still finds himself messing with the angle of the screen and adjusting the stack of books it’s balanced on, periodically adding and taking away hardbacks of varying sizes.

 _Orville Peck_ croons softly from the record player and Adam finds himself humming along, completely oblivious to clock on the wall opposite him striking six. He jolts in surprise when the call he’d been waiting all day for comes through on Skype.

“Shit,” he curses under his breath, almost knocking the laptop off its perch in his haste to pull his hands away. 

He takes a couple of seconds to run his fingers through his hair and readjust his bolo tie before eventually accepting the call. 

“Howdy, partner,” Marty greets warmly when the video flickers to life.

“Hey yourself,” Adam replies. He’d been a little embarrassed when he asked Marty to dress up for their weekly Skype date, but seeing him sitting there in a deep purple suit and black bowtie any lingering doubt fizzles away. “You look great,” he breathes out reverently.

“Oh, this old thing?” Marty says, slipping his fingertips under the lapel. “Just grabbed it out of the wardrobe,” he says with a wink. “New shirt?”

Adam touches the delicately embroidered crow skulls on the yoke that comes down low over his shoulders. It’s not a design he’d typically go for, but he’s found Marty’s darker tastes rubbing off on him more and more recently. “It reminded me of you.”

“Charmer.”

Being long-distance is bad enough at the best of times. Waking up in an empty bed then travelling alone to whatever arena Dynamite’s at that week knowing that, despite getting to the spend the day doing what he loves with people he loves, it will never be quite right without Marty by his side.

Quarantining on top of that means no impulsive trips to Orlando when he’s feeling particularly broody just so he can spend a night in his arms. They’ve been trying to make the best of it, facetiming and texting each other throughout the day more than they normally would, but it’s difficult. Not being able to touch someone when it’s the only thing you want to do is exhausting in a way Adam has never experienced before, like trying to quench a deep thirst by catching drops of rain on your tongue.

“So what’s the occasion? I didn’t forget an anniversary, did I?” Marty jokes, smoothing his hands down the front of his jacket.

“The occasion is the world’s gone to shit and I haven’t been able to take you out to a fancy restaurant for two months.”

Marty laughs, head tipped back to expose the long column of his neck. “Fair enough,” he concedes before his face softens. “How’ve you been? Holding up okay?” He asks gently.

Adam slowly exhales, centring himself. “Not bad,” he says and Marty gives him a look full of doubt. “No, seriously,” Adam insists. “It’s been nice to have a bit of me-time, you know? I think I just needed to get away from everyone for a while and though the circumstances obviously haven’t been ideal, I feel… well, not _good_ , not yet, but better.”

A tension Adam hadn’t immediately noticed bleeds out of Marty’s shoulders. “I’m glad. The thought of you all alone after the last few months has been killing me.”

“Sorry,” Adam says, lowering his eyes.

“Don’t be silly, there’s nothing to apologize for,” Marty waves away easily. “Christ, if anyone’s handling this whole thing badly, it’s me. Last night I actually packed a suitcase with the intention of driving all the way to Virginia.”

“Seriously?”

“It’s still the car,” he admits. “Can’t quite bring myself to take it out.”

Adam’s chest tightens with longing. “You know how much I’d love to see you in person, darlin', but we can’t.”

“I know. It was just a moment of weakness,” he sighs dramatically. “Which I should be used to by now when it concerns you,” he adds fondly.

“I really am doing okay, though,” Adam assures him, cheeks warm. “In fact, I was thinking about camping out in the woods for a couple of nights. No better time to become one with nature, right?”

Marty grimaces through a strained smile. “Rather you than me, love. I can’t imagine spending even a single night out in my new garden, as nice as it is. Way too many bugs. Give me air conditioning and a memory foam mattress any day of the week.”

“How’re you settling in?”

“It’s like we’ve been living here for years,” Marty shares. “Winston’s loving all the extra space he’s got to run around in,” he continues, gently stroking the small dog curled up asleep in his lap. “We can’t wait to give you the grand tour.”

“Me too. I’m counting down the days. Did you get my package?” Marty wriggles his eyebrows and Adam huffs in amusement. “Yeah, yeah. I said what I said. Seriously, though. Did it arrive okay? I was so worried about getting your new address wrong I probably re-read it twenty times.”

Marty reaches off screen and brings back with him a bottle of wine and a glass. “Very nice.”

“And the flowers?” Adam adds.

Marty turns his laptop around so Adam can see a gorgeous bouquet of deep purple, burgundy, and black flowers artfully arranged in an ornate vase. “They’re lovely. Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Something else should be coming any minute now,” he says, looking down at his watch. “So, err, just bear with me?”

“You’re spoiling me rotten, Mr. Page,” Marty admonishes lightly.

“Well, don’t get too excited just yet,” Adam says just as his phone begins to buzz incessantly from where he’d wedged it between the couch cushions.

Fishing it out, he frowns as Kenny’s photo flashes up on the screen.

“Work?” Marty asks.

“It’s Kenny,” he says distractedly before setting it back down screen-first on the coffee table. “It’s fine. He’s probably just ringing to bitch about Colt again.”

Marty leans forward, eager for any gossip Adam may have. He’s always the last to know anything that’s going on within The Elite nowadays, much to his chagrin. “What’s going on there, exactly?”

“Well between you and me, I think he’s—”

Adam’s interrupted by the distant _ding-dong_ of Marty’s doorbell.

“Hold that thought,” Marty says before pushing himself up, Winston left looking blearily around in his now empty seat.

Adam takes the opportunity to pour out a glass wine. It’s not as pricey as the one he sent Marty, but it’ll do for now. At least until he can move onto whiskey, anyway.

“You ordered me pizza?” Marty asks when he wanders back into shot, arms laden with food. “And…” he trails off to open one of smaller boxes balancing on top of his haul and laughs. “Chicken wings.”

Adam fiddles with his bolo, suddenly self-conscious. “Garlic bread, too. I’ve got my own in keeping warm the oven. I know it’s not a four-course meal at a restaurant where you need to reserve a table six months in advance, but—”

“It’s perfect,” Marty interrupts. “You’re perfect.”

Adam sits there staring at Marty for several seconds, no doubt looking utterly besotted.

“Go get your pizza, cowboy,” Marty prompts softly.

“Right. Yeah.”

He scrambles up and darts off to the kitchen.

When he gets back, Marty waits until he’s sitting back down before holding up his glass.

“A toast,” he begins, and Adam quickly scoops up his own, the wine sloshing up the sides. “A toast to flashes of light in the dark and moments of warmth in the cold. To you.”

“To us,” Adam corrects.

Adam tips his glass towards the laptop screen, Marty mirroring him.

“Chin chin,” Marty says and they both take a sip. “Now, tell me about this thing with Kenny and Colt.”

Adam smiles against the rim of his glass.


End file.
